s
p
i
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away the days we've been caught once before in sheltered caves catching
shattered waves by the dozen
like it was a passing fad, a nomadic habit, a sporadic memory that will never
be searched for again:
"you have the voice of a thousand eyes & I've been cursed w/ the eyes of a thousand voices.."
our mirrors keep on finding ways for us to self-criticize, but we're all enemies here anyway
so it doesn't even matter who said what about who when & where
(life IS a fast lane..)
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